I’m pretty sure that following Jesus is pretty much the same as being a dog.
Just go with me on this one.
We’re born. Some of us into good homes, some of us into not so good homes. Maybe we’re sleeping on streets and digging in trash. Maybe we end up in the pound or given away for free if not a cheap sum. Perhaps we were blessed enough to be born into a good loving family. It’s hard to say.
But there’s a life of sin in there. Where we feel unworthy and unwanted. Where we are trapped behind bars, kenneled up in what we thought life was.
Of course that’s where Jesus comes in. He sees us and loves us. Then He saves us. And everything changes.
Now there’s this awkward time. Where we have bad habits and we have to go through way too much training that doesn’t always stick. Where we wander off or don’t come when we’re called or chew up His shoes. Where discipline happens and maybe time out takes forever or that treat doesn’t come. But we know that everything has changed. Our life is different because He called us home. That He is working everything for our good; whether we see it or not.
And boy do we love Him. And living a life with Him is pretty much like spending every day at the dog park. We get to run and play and be completely weird. We get to swim and roll around in the dirt. We get to explore with a puppy-like excitement, occasionally looking up to make sure He’s still there.
And that’s where He got me. That’s where He taught me.
Because a well trained dog comes at the sound of their name, at the pitch of their Master’s whistle. They may wander a bit but they are always looking back, making sure you’re there, ears perked just in case. That takes perseverance. It takes love and patience and a lot of time spent together.
And although we have to keep our eyes set on Him, I think Jesus watches us because He wants to, not because He has to. Papa loves watching us play and explore and be completely weird and funny; living this life He gave us. The same way I could watch my pup for hours. Because she’s stinking awesome. And completely entertaining.
But my favorite thing about her, is when she follows me. When I don’t have to watch her every move out of fear she’ll take off and never come back. When I know she’s right there with me. I love her obedience (as rare as that is at times) and her loyalty. I love that she loves me, in he same way that I love Papa’s love for me. So how much more does He love it when we walk with Him? When He knows we are near, watching His move, listening to direction and basking in His love.
Because let’s be real. Who else can love us if we happen to poop in the dining room. Twice.